





COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 


I 






Copyright, 1922 , by 
The Standard Publishing Company 





©C1A690531 



All the dear little children in 
the world and especially to 


Robert Hathaway Heinen 





KaThryN 

fyJtm 


#■ 9 









'M 1 


TEOW! Meow!” — a little cat 
Stood shivering outside 

The kitchen door — “Meow! Meow! 

Please let me in,” it cried. 

It was a most dejected cat, 

And certainly looked sick; 

You couldn’t tell its color, 

For its fur with mud was thick. 

But kindly little Bertha came 
And peeped outside the door; 

She’d never known a cat to come 
And beg a home before. 

“Come in, poor Kitty Cat,” she said, 

“You’re cold and chilled plumb through! 

Wait till I go and find some food, 

And make a bed for you.” 

She took it in beside the fire, 

And made it nice and warm; 

The little thing was shivering 
From wind and rain and storm. 

Then Bertha brought some milk to drink, 
And wholesome food to eat, 

And Kitty soon began to purr, 

Its joy was so complete. 

H 


And pretty soon it went to sleep, 

All curled up in the mat, 

And when it wakened up, well, well, 

You should have seen that cat. 

It was so full of life, it played 
With Bertha’s shining hair, 

For cats are always playful 
If they’re given proper care. 

And then the kitty drank its fill 
From out the pan of milk, 

And Bertha washed and combed its fur 
Until it shone like silk. 

And she was very much surprised 
To find, when she was through, 

It was a little Maltese cat 
With fur of glossy blue. 

She named the kitty “Pussy Blue,” 

And kept her in the house, 

And since Puss came, they’ve never seen 
Or even heard a mouse. 

It pays to help unfortunates, 

And give them food and care; 

You can’t judge cats or people 
By the garments that they wear. 







F LUFF and Fleet were two red squirrels 
Who lived in Squirrel Town, 

And always played together, 

’Mong the autumn leaves of brown. 

But one bright day they had a quarrel, 

As good friends sometimes do, 

A very, very foolish quarrel, 

And over nothing too. 

They’d found a lovely, golden nut, 

And each had claimed the prize, 

And then they fought about it, 

Which I think was most unwise. 





... v 

\? 







For while those two were quarreling, 

A squirrel known as “Blink” 

Came up and ate the precious nut, 

As quick as you can wink. 

And when the good friends stopped to think 
And finally decide 

How much more sensible ’twould be 
The big nut to divide, 

Of course ’twas gone, and then they felt 
As foolish as could be, 

And that’s the way a quarrel 
Almost always ends, you see. 

How nice it would have been for each 
To take a portion small, 

While, as it was, poor Fluff and Fleet 
Had no nice treat at all. 



U PON her eggs an old hen sat, 

As patient old hens will, 

And Polly Brown grew worried, 
’Cause she sat so long and still. 

“Why don’t you get off of your nest?” 
Cried Polly. “You’ll be sick 
If you don’t get some exercise, 

You foolish, foolish chick.” 

“Now,” said the hen, “don’t bother me, 
I know what I’m about; 

I’ll get my exercise, don’t fear, 

As soon as I get out. 


“I’ve been two weeks now at my task, 
And when one more goes by, 

You come and call again, and see 
What sight will greet your eye.” 

The week went by and Polly came 
To see the wise old hen, 

And there, like little balls of fluff, 
Were yellow chickens ten. 

And Mother Hen was clucking, 

Just as proud as proud could be, 
“That’s what I get for setting there 
So patiently, you see.” 




u ill V, 

til 111, 


noil/ ;n>i4>iy 

V IS)®/®/ 



c 




OME here, Dolly Dimple,” said 
Margery Vale 

To her little rag dolly. “My dear, 

It is plain to be seen I must teach you 
some things, 

For your manners are frightfully 
queer. 

‘Only this very noon, as we sat eating 
lunch, 

Well, you just shamed me almost to 
death ! 

’Cause you lifted your food to your mouth 
on your knife; 

When I saw you, I ’most lost my 
breath. 

Here is something for you to think over, 
my child, 

And remember it all of your life, 

‘Whenever you’re eating, it’s very bad 
form 

To lift food to your lips with your 
knife.’ 


“Now, your knife is for cutting the food 
that you eat, 

While your fork is to lift it, you 
know, 

So don’t make that mistake in your whole 
life again, 

When to dinner or luncheon you 
go.” 



Then the poor Dolly Dimple looked sad, 
and replied, 

With a tear in her faded blue 
eye: 

“I have heard all you’ve said and I’ll do 
as you ask, 

Or at least I shall certainly try.” 

“All right, Dolly, my darling,” said 
Margery Vale; 

“If you do just the best you know 
how, 

That is all one can ask of a litte rag 
doll, 

So your scolding is all over now.*| 









G O ’WAY from here!” said Pink Wildrose 
To Jennie Honeybee, 

“You buzz around some other place, 

. And stay away from me! 

You come and take my honey 
To your stuffy hive to eat, 

And I am sure without it 

I am not one-half as sweet.” 


‘All right,” said Jennie Honeybee, 

“But you just wait till fall, 

And then you’ll find your old brown seeds 
Will be no good at all. 

They need the golden pollen 

That I bring you on my way, 

To pay for the honey 

That I take from you each day!" 





lat’s that you say?” cried Pink Wildrose; 
“I don’t believe it’s so, 


That I must have that yellow stuff 


To make my nice seeds grow. 


And just to prove that you are wrong, 
I’ll ask that sleepy owl 
Who’s list’ning up in yonder tree- — 
He’s such a wise old fowl.” 

“Hoo! Hoo!” the sleepy owl exclaimed, 
“Hoo! Hoo! it seems to me 
You are a very foolish flower 
To quarrel with a bee. 

Of course a seed needs pollen! 



And a bee needs honey, too!” 
And then he flopped his funny wings, 
And to the woods he flew. 

























HE sunbeams gave a little dance 
Down on the green one day, 
All dressed for the occasion 


In their party dresses gay. 


Each one had floated downward 
In a little aeroplane, 

And each one wore a yellow coat, 
And held a golden cane. 


They had an orchestra of frogs 
That hopped up from the bog, 
And two canary birds that sat 
And sang upon a log. 






And when refreshment time came 'roun 
They drank the sparkling dew, 

Fresh from the flowers' brimming cups 
(And they were thirsty too). 



danced and frolicked there until 
They all grew tired at last, 

And one of them excalimed: “Oh, dear! 
This day has flown so fast! 

'We'd better hurry home before 
The stars peep out o’erhead." 

And then they canked their aeroplanes, 
And flew up home to bed. 




|C ^eHool of ttw 


ftlercu 


green dell by a bubbling brook, 

Where the shadows are quiet and cool, 
the cat-tails and meadow-grass wave in the 
breeze, 

The Buttercup children keep school. 

Buttercup is their teacher, because 
is taller than all of the others; 

them how to be gracious and sweet, 
kind to their sisters and brothers. 

how to bend when the summer wind blows; 
to look up and bow to the sun; 
dew they should drink, and to bathe in the rain, 
which they consider great fun. 



And when they have studied and worked 
Comes a recess time for them to play, 

Then they join with the breezes that linger abojj 
And backward and forward they sway. 

They do not complain if their lessons are hard, 
Each bright little face wears a smile; 

They are fond of their teacher and love to obey, 
So they’re happy and gay ail the while. 

You never see one of them pouting or sad, 

’Cause there’s so many studies to do, 

For they think they should make other people f 
And I think that’s a good rule, don’t you? 






UEER old Mrs. Piggy-Wiggy 
Had a family of three; 
Little roly-poly piggies, 

Just as cunning as could be. 


She had named one Piggie “Squealer,” 
And another Piggie “Grunt,” 

And the baby’s name was “Buntie,” 

But for short they called him “Bunt.” 


And, of course, this Mother Piggie 
Wished her children to be good, 

So she taught them pleasing manners 
Just the very best she could. 


‘Now,” said she, “to be nice piggies, 
There is just one proper way: 
That’s to keep real clean and tidy, 
And to take a bath each day. 


“And brush your hair, and file your nails 
And keep them trim and neat, 

And take especial pains, my dears, 

To act well when you eat.” 

But, would you believe me, children? 

When the farmer brought their food, 
Old Mrs. Pig woud rush right up 
As quickly as she could, 

And grab and gulp and gobble, 

In a manner rude and rough, 

And one would think to watch her, 

She would never get enough. 

Then she would wallow in the mud 
Until she was a sight, 

And the little piggies, thinking 
What their mother did was right, 

Would act exactly like her, 

So, of course, they grew to be 
Untidy and unmannerly, 

Poor little piggies three. 

This proves that if we’d like for folks 
To do the things we teach, 

We must live up to those rules ourse' 
And practice what we preach. 



*' 1 














F IVE- YEAR-OLD Mollie 
Was holding her dollie 
In the shade at the side of the house, 
When what should she spy, 

In the path running by, 

But a poor little mite of a mouse. 

With a wild, frantic shout, 

Mollie quickly leaped out 
Of the pathway and ran in a fright 
To her mother and cried, 

‘There’s a mousie outside; 
a trap that will catch it to-night.” 





r 


v\ 

'V 




Mother said, as -she smiled, 

“Why, you dear little child, 

Mousie never would hurt you a bit, 

And I’m sure, if you knew, 

’Twas more frightened at you 
Than you could have been frightened at it.” 


And her words were quite true, 

For that mouse fairly flew 
To its mother who lived in the wall, 

And she squeaked “Mother dear,” 

As she trembled with fear, 

“There’s a girl out there frightfully tall. 



“Ha, ha,” laughed Mother Mouse, 

As she tidied her house, 

‘Did you run away home just for that? 
What I thought had occurred, 

When your scream I first heard, 

Was that you’d seen a fierce pussj 















Qoek^) 



LITTLE clock grew weary, 

As it sat upon the shelf; 

’Twas tired of ticking all the time, 
And murmured to itself, 
“There isn’t anybody else 
That works so hard; I’m blest 
If I don’t think it’s time that I 
Should take a little rest.” 

j^.nd so it stopped, and Mrs. Brown 
Took all its works apart, 

And oiled them with a feather, 

But she couldn’t make it start. 

found her little clock 


lly stopped for good, 
rew it out among the junk 
ehind a pile 



And there it lay and pondered, 

Doing nothing all the time 
But thinking, thinking, thinking hard 
Among the dust and grime. 

Until it saw the folly 

Of the thing that it had done, 

And then it felt so sorry 

That it started in to run. 


When Mrs. Brown came out next day 
To get a load of wood, 

She heard the ticking of the clock 
And gladly cried, “Oh, good! 

My little clock is running now.” 

And with a beaming face 
She took it back into the house 



Pnjf 



ovJ C^)rj: 





oo 


Y dear/’ saith Father Bunny, 

As he left for work one day, 
“Be sure and watch the children 
Every moment I’m away. 


I have a premonition 
Which has left no room for doubt, 

We’ll very soon discover 
There’s a sly old fox about.” 

Yes, yes,” said Mrs. Bunny, 

As she tied her apron-strings, 

“I’ll keep my eyes upon them, 

Darling, precious little things. 

I’ve felt a bit afraid myself, 

And so I’ve made a rule 
To take them through the woods each day, 
Both to and from the school.” 





The Bunny children started, 

Each with lunch-pail on his arm, 

And Mother Bunny went along, 

To keep them safe from harm. 

But being very, very wise, 

As mothers always are, 

She brought along with her a jug 
Of black and sticky tar. 

And soon the Mother Bunny, 

With her keen eyes, chanced to spy 
A sly old fox, well hidden 
In a berry-bush near by. 

She quickly poured the sticky tar 
All out upon the ground, 

Then said, “Good-by, my children dear,” 
And quickly turned around. 

And vanished in the bushes, 

And the cunning fox, so sly, 

Thought she’d left her little bunnies, 
And a gleam came in his eye. 


“Ha, ha!” said he, “now is my chance 
For rabbit stew at last,” 

But when he leaped to catch them, 

Lo, the black tar held him fast. 

And there he stuck, and though he tried 
To draw his poor feet out, 

He could not move an inch, 

And Mother Bunny with a shout 

Came running back and cried, “Ho, ho! 

You thought you were so sly, 

But when it comes to strategy, 

You’re not as smart as I.” 

The Bunny family had a laugh 
At tea that selfsame night, 

When telling Father Bunny 
Of the sly old fox’s plight. 

“I’m glad I thought to take that tar,” 
Wise Mother Bunny said; 

“When one is dealing with a fox, 

It pays to look ahead” 




















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































s ' 


































































